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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29963169">Close Encounters of the Impure Kind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/titerarygenius/pseuds/titerarygenius'>titerarygenius</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prospect (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Banter, But today is not that day, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gun Kink, Implied Consent, Interrogation, Praise Kink, Rival Sex, also no number two because he gives off cockblock vibes, as a matter of fact i AM scared of intimacy however did you know?, but fuck the NRA, but neither does the reader, dumb bitch duo, ezra SIMPLY does not SHUT THE FUCK UP, ezra's lexicon gets the love it deserves, i will do ANYTHING to not type the word love, like the most angrily supportive praise kink, me? being horny over things i politically oppose? NEVER, no cee or damon because i'm here to write PORN and that's where my work ethic ends, one day i'll write a reader/oc that ISNT a scumbag, passion + begrudging mutual respect + eventual affection + physical tenderness, sorry buddy RIP</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:13:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,848</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29963169</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/titerarygenius/pseuds/titerarygenius</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An eloquent chatterbox with an endearing drawl and blood on his hands. A clever idiot with a competitive streak and no bra. What could go wrong?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ezra (Prospect 2018) &amp; Original Character(s), Ezra (Prospect 2018) &amp; Original Female Character(s), Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Original Character(s), Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Original Female Character(s), Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Reader, Ezra (Prospect 2018)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Man and the Muse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>- The reader has a vagina! No gender mentioned, just neat knockers, meat lockers, and the pink manta ray. And yes, with each smut I write the euphemisms WILL get worse. You can't stop me.<br/>-No smut in this one, but hang in there!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I'm <em>telling </em>you, <em>pal,</em> I don't have <em>shit</em>. Give the bag back, all right?" You gave him a few seconds to comply. He didn't. Just kept rifling through you bag. <em>Fucker.</em></p><p> </p><p>He must have noticed you staring at him, because he paused and met your eyes. You stood like that, apprehensive, your figures prepped to fight or flee. You gave him a few more seconds to comply, in case he was a bit slow. He didn't. So you launched into action, stepping and turning on one foot while swinging your other leg into his middle as hard as you could. You felt the impact against his gut as he fell to the ground. Landing in a crouch, you recovered from the spin- </p><p> </p><p>Only to find yourself helmet to helmet with <em>him</em>. The bag, used to block your kick, sat a few feet away. </p><p> </p><p>You barely had enough time to process your mistake before you hit the ground. Your opponent's foot dug into your chest, pinning you to the ground while he pointed his thrower. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, pooling strangely in the palms of your hands. <em>A bit late for <strong>that</strong>, buddy,</em> you thought. <em>Fight's kind of over.</em> Nevertheless, you were thankful for the clarity it brought as time seemed to slow, giving you a good look at the victor. Huh. You'd never met a guy with Poliosis. The classic white-blond forelock tufted out on its own. <em>Cute,</em> you thought. His nose was roman, almost hawkish, and his eyes- <em>Shit. Dang. </em>The guy was almost 90% iris, the deep brown blinking down at you from the prettiest eyelashes you'd ever seen, giving him a perpetual puppy-eyed look. <em>Well, at least I'll die by someone </em><em>pretty. </em>His pouted lips, pink full and <em>somehow</em> pulling off that mustache, were flapping on, but you barely heard a word. You turned your eyes back up to the golden tuft of hair. You really wished you could give it a good pat before you died. </p><p> </p><p>"-Well?" You startled. You tried to remember what his question was, but you couldn't recall a word. "<em>Dammit,</em> partner, say something. I haven't had a decent conversation in <em>months.</em>" You had a million replies. <em>Fuck you! Please don't kill me. Lovely day we're having, huh?</em></p><p> </p><p>"Uh..." you blurted out the first thought that came to mind. "Hey, does the carpet match the drapes?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>DOES THE CARPET MATCH THE DRAPES?!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Before, your biggest fear was the pain you might face by the hands of your competing diggers. But <em>this,</em> pinned and forced to watch as he blinked at you in stupefaction, was the <em>real</em> torture. <em>Will he recoil in disgust? Will he ridicule you before pulling the trigger? Will he just let it sit out there awkwardly until my last minutes are up?</em> You didn't know which was worse.</p><p> </p><p>You watched as his face contorted; his widened eyes grew even wider, his lips pursed, and worse, began to curl downwards. But then the noise came, and you noticed him shaking almost imperceptibly, and you realized it was the beginning of a laugh.</p><p> </p><p>"Compadre, <em>that</em> was a real opener. And to elucidate on the topic, it is, fortunately, monochromatic." <em>Boy, this guy's a talker.</em> He continued, rather pensively, "while, of course, I appreciate my apical asymmetry, I fear the rest may make it look... rather lopsided."</p><p> </p><p>It was your turn to giggle, both at the disturbingly vivid description and the bizarreness of the situation as a whole. You snorted, a habit you'd been trying to kick since the womb.</p><p> </p><p>"What a delightful laugh!" He smiled happily. "It is truly gratifying to find another with some semblance of humor, especially in this verdantly barren habitat. I truly hope we can cooperate for the remainder of this temporary incarceration. It would be indisputably demoralizing to have to remove such a spirit from this world." </p><p> </p><p>You were too busy hating how his appraisal flustered you that you almost missed the underlying threat. Once it fully processed, your laugh died comically quick. </p><p> </p><p>"My actions are purely of the fringe," he assured, noticing your expression. "I swear to you, my enigmatic individual, I mean no harm. All I request from you is some... <em>insight</em> into your inhabitation here." <em>As if some flowery words could pull the wool over my eyes like some damn country hick. Well. </em><em>Takes two to tango.</em></p><p> </p><p>"I assure you..." You paused, waiting for a name.</p><p> </p><p>"Ezra." </p><p> </p><p>"Look, Ezra, I comprehend the <em>how</em> and the <em>why</em>. The issue is not in my cognitive empathy as much as it is in our... inevitable conflict of interest. Knowledge, <em>as I'm sure you know,</em> is power, and I'm not quite sure I should give it." His eyebrows raised as you spoke, matching his eloquence at every turn. <em>Ha,</em> you thought.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, my thrilling <em>Thelxinoe</em>, your words are sweet music to my ears. However, I must interrupt." He tapped his thrower on your helmet, the barrel positioned over your right eye. "Why are you here? Your appearance, especially alone, indicates you may have received a tip-off."</p><p> </p><p>"Alright, sure, let's assume I have one. That I can lead you there, but refuse to. Think about it this way: it still wouldn't be a smart move to burn a map simply because you can't decipher it. You kill me, there's no feasible gain. You let me go and... uh... get me some water, there's at least a <em>chance</em> you'll end up with <em>something</em>. So might as well, right?" <em>Who's calling the shots <strong>now</strong></em>, <em>buddy?</em></p><p> </p><p>"You <em>are</em> a persuasive one, I'll give you that," he chuckled. "But your argument is... ultimately flawed. You see, you are operating under the assumption that my only choices are making good on my threat and letting you go freely, <em>with my supplies, at that</em>. I admire your boldness immensely. However, you have, unintentionally, inspired a new revelation in me. See, I do not favor the thought of causing you harm and hesitate to let you go. But who is to say I cannot... what <em>is </em>that phrase? Have my cake and eat it too? I am not above capture." <em>Oh <strong>dammit</strong>. How did I not think of that? </em></p><p> </p><p>He turned you over so you were face down, pinning your forearms behind you and securing them together with rope that you were <em>sure</em> he found in <em>your</em> bag. "Please excuse these measures, and do tell me if you face physical discomfort. However, I am afraid I must check for concealed weapons. I promise that my hands act on no ulterior motives and that my actions are not derived from attraction, no matter how your presence may evoke it." He paused, waiting for confirmation.</p><p> </p><p><em>There's not much I can do,</em> you thought as you nodded. <em>But at least he's being decent about it.</em> As his hands moved down your sides, you couldn't help but wish he wouldn't go so fast. When his palms moved over your hipbones in quick, rough brushes, you found yourself noticing how big his hands were, memorizing the touch of them on your curves and mentally moving them up, up until you found yourself imagining how they would feel gripping your ass. <em>Shit. No ulterior motives. Stop thinking stop thinkingstopthink- </em></p><p> </p><p>And he was turning you over, hands starting at your ankles and moving up the inside of each leg. As he neared the apex of your legs, you realized if you didn't give him more room he would be forced to squeeze his hand between your thighs, which would be <em>really </em>mortifying for the both of you. You drew your legs slightly up and shifted to give him a wider berth, knees spreading to each side. His eyes flickered, then met yours with confusion. It was only then that you realized what it looked like, you on your back, leaning up on your tied elbows with your legs spread in a perfect diamond for him.</p><p> </p><p>His brows contorted slightly, and you couldn't tell whether it was with incredulity or perplexity. <em>FuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!</em></p><p> </p><p>"Oh I figured I should, uh, give you more room just to make it less awkward but, well, <em>shit</em>, really made a hash outta <em>that</em> one, huh?" You laughed in abject horror.</p><p> </p><p>"Ah. Of course. Yes." He seemed just as embarrassed as you, which was somewhat comforting. "I will just... proceed, shall we? Thank you for the considerate act, my friend. It does help the logistics, ah, substantially." His awkwardness was kind of funny, and you can't help but burst into nervous snickers. Eventually he joins you, the hysteria morphing into giggles. Once he finishes roping your ankles together (enough slack to let you walk, not enough for you to get another kick in), he helps you up.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, it's getting dark. Shall I escort you to my humble abode? Or would you prefer to stop at your camp to retrieve any belongings?" </p><p> </p><p>"Nice try, pal," you smirked. "But you're not gonna get my location <em>that</em> easy." He laughed.</p><p> </p><p>"Clever attempt," he countered. "But if you want to freeload off my supplies, you'll have to try harder."</p><p> </p><p>"While I appreciate your <em>hospitality</em>, I can take care of myself with or without you and your broken-down supplies." He huffed in mock defeat.</p><p> </p><p>"I suppose you are right. Well, shall we?" He extended his arm for you to take, then made a face of exaggerated surprise when he saw your tied arms. "Oh! I forgot! You got yourself <em>captured,</em> didn't you? By <em>someone</em> with a more advanced means of defense and attack?" His face beamed complacently. That was the thing, you began to notice, about his stupid smiles. They were goddamn <em>infectious</em>. You rolled your eyes, fighting down a grudging grin.</p><p> </p><p>"...Smug bastard."</p><p> </p><p>"At your service."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thelxinoe: one of the four Muses, known as the "charmer of minds."</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Canary in the Cage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For a tent, it was pretty good. Rustic. Well-decorated. Comfortable. At least, until he tied you to one of the legs of the left bunk.</p><p> </p><p>"-Now, even though I cannot yet allow you to be unrestrained, I truly hope it will not mar your stay-"</p><p> </p><p>"Ezra..."</p><p> </p><p>"Or cause you to feel trapped, although, in a concrete sense, you are, but-'</p><p> </p><p>"Ezra."</p><p> </p><p>"The <em>point</em> I mean to express is that you, although technically a captive, have my <em>utmost</em> respect, and that if there is anything you need-"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Ezra."</em> He stopped, finally seeming to hear you.</p><p> </p><p>"Ah. Sorry. Yes?"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm still in the helmet." You wiggled your bound arms to emphasize your predicament. "I need my hands."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry, my <em>Hyleoroi</em>, but I cannot. If you will allow me to take care of it for you..." He paused, hands hovering over the sides of your helmet, waiting for the answer. You took in the length of each finger, the <em>width</em>. If he <em>was</em> the harvester he seemed to be, his dexterity- <em>Whoa, there. Stop that right now.</em> You nodded, not trusting yourself to do anything more.</p><p> </p><p>His fingers skimmed the edge of your helmet, and you were almost sure you could feel the vibration of his touch through the metal rim. He pulled the helmet off rather clumsily, the motion unseating and toppling him over while your hair was flopped up over your face. You tried to shake it back into position, but it only made it worse. He sat back up, lips twitching as he took in your state before reaching over and gently brushing your hair out of your face. A strange look softened his eyes before he retracted his hand, reconciling the touch with an overly-fraternal bro punch to the shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>You both sat like that, lost in your own thoughts, until you sheepishly broke the silence.</p><p> </p><p>"...Hey, Ezra?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes?"</p><p> </p><p>"The suit's getting, uh, mad uncomfortable. Look, I... I think it's inevitable that I'll have to be untied, for at least a short period of time. And hey, you've beaten me in a fight once, and my arms are stiff, so making a break for it wouldn't do much for me, right?" He considered it for a beat, sighed, and set to work on the ropes that bound you. Once done, he stood, drawing his thrower as you rose to your feet on shaky legs.</p><p> </p><p>"Haven't got all day," his voice seemed lower than before. "Strip."</p><p> </p><p>You knew the context, but the words still sent shivers down your spine. Your eyes lingered on the thrower.</p><p> </p><p>"Better safe than sorry," he said stiffly. He seemed to have trouble keeping his eyes on you as he trained the thrower on your wobbly form. his eyes flitted around the room, avoiding looking at you too long.</p><p> </p><p>You began unzipping your suit, revealing a light gray tank top which- <em>Shit. Wrong day to ditch a bra.</em> You heard a strange stifled noise and turned, immediately noticing his non-thrower hand drumming restlessly on his thigh, and <em>huh</em>. You could've <em>sworn</em> you saw his head fall back a little. <em>Well, </em>that's<em> interesting.</em></p><p> </p><p>You didn't know <em>why</em> you did it. Maybe it was because you were too curious for your own good. Maybe it was because you were an envelope-pusher since birth. <em>It's just an experiment, a study into where he stands,</em> you told yourself.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Observing his reaction from the corner of your eye, you leaned over to free your legs. <em>Forgot I was wearing</em><em> the ass shorts. Oopsies.</em> In a clumsy display of balance, you managed to pull the suit off of one leg slowly, revealing leg bit by bit. You saw his breathing pattern falter, the rise and fall of his chest freezing before shakily resuming with what you knew was a manual effort. His grip involuntarily tightened on the thrower.</p><p> </p><p>You'd always liked throwers, if only from an aesthetic perspective. While you weren't completely comfortable using one, you couldn't help but be hypnotized by the smooth metal, the <em>click</em> when you cocked one. Maybe you'd watched too many action movies as a kid, but the threatening glamour drew you in. You loved watching the characters when they faced down their opponents, the dangerous glint in their eyes and how it contrasted their slow, cool approaches. But the way Ezra stood, balancing on one thrust-out hip while his free hand rested on the other, gave them all a run for their goddamn money. <em>Fuck it.</em></p><p> </p><p>You turned to face him, staring directly into his eyes, and let the rest of the suit fall.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes burned as he let out a seething breath, his jaw tense and slightly ajar. <em>You're in over your head, pal,</em> you told yourself, feeling fear thrum through you like a second heartbeat. Just as you were about to look away from his blinding intensity, his brow hardened and his expression condensed into a stoic resolve. You couldn't tell if his restored composure filled you with relief or a disappointment. </p><p> </p><p>"My clemency ends here, canary," he sighed. "Although I have thoroughly enjoyed our respite from reality, I fear we must return to the fringe and, in extension, our previous interrogation. If you would return to the bunk, I'd be much obliged." As he nodded his head at the bunk, your eyes caught on his jaw. You'd always found three-quarter angles the most flattering, and seeing he already <em>was</em> rather... <em>Fuck, he said something, didn't he?</em> You blinked rather stupidly. </p><p> </p><p>"Little bird, business <em>must </em>go on. Sit." <em>Oh, so <strong>that's</strong> what he said.</em> "Or," he tapped the thrower, "I'll have no choice but to hold you there myself." Something like arou- <em>defiance</em> flickered in the pit of your stomach. <em>Well, the best way out of a hole is to keep digging 'til ya hit the other side, right?</em></p><p> </p><p>"Was <em>that</em> supposed to be a threat? You should know by now that I <em>love a good fight.</em>" You smirked, a little shakily. "Come on, old man, I thought this was the <em>fringe</em>. If <em>this</em> is how you run your interrogations..." Shrugging, you-</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Well.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>You may have gone a bit too far. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hyleoroi: Greek woodland nymphs known as the "watchers in the woods."</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Rivals' Rapture</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry! The smut is STILL not here yet! My internet cut out for a solid week so I'm mad sorry for the wait. I can't tell whether this chapter is profoundly erotic or whether this is just me blathering to myself. Oh well. I do hope y'all enjoy, and I PROMISE smut will arrive soon, dammit! There is smooching in this chapter though. It's the least I could do :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"><span class="s1">"Is </span> <em><span class="s2">that</span></em> <span class="s1"> what you want, Canary?" He made no move toward you. In fact, he leaned against the tent's support beam, observing you through a mask of feigned leisure. "You want me to interrogate you like you're expendable? Like it's you or me?" He chuckled softly. "</span><em><span class="s2">Birdie</span></em><span class="s1">, I'm granting you a brief reprieve from the vulgarity of the Green. 'S not often that someone would refuse it." You tried to keep your breathing at a steady tempo. </span> <em><span class="s2">The average breath occurs every eight seconds. One... tw-</span></em></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"However, I reckon I had better save the contemplation for later."</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">You had no time to process what he meant by that before he was on you, his arm flicking the rope </span><span class="s2">(<em>when did he pick that up?</em>)</span> <span class="s1"> around your waist so he could temporarily pull your form to the beam. You moved to detangle yourself, but before you could he pressed his chest to yours. His legs pushed yours out, limiting your kicking capabilities, while his arms pinned yours above your head.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">It was imperative to be alert during a fight. Or at least, somewhat present in the moment. But all you could think about was how his body felt finally touching yours.</span> <em><span class="s2">Finally? You've known him less than a day. <strong>Man</strong>, I sure hope I'm concussed, because if I'm really getting this worked up over a guy that- that-</span> </em><span class="s1"> Your thoughts were interrupted by the realization that your nipples were hard. </span> <em><span class="s2">Oh, great. GREAT. I'm stuck here, and all Kevva gives me is a set of rabidly aggressive nips. But look on the bright side!</span></em><em><span class="s2"> In a few minutes, they might just be hard enough for me to stab my way out with! Goody!</span></em></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">Suddenly, all traces of your (albeit bitter) mirth drained away. </span> <em> <span class="s2">Oh fuck, I hope he doesn't feel it. </span> </em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">You tried to shove him away before he could notice, but since all your limbs were incapacitated, you only succeeded in shoving your chest further into him. Needless to say, they were <em>not</em> hard enough to stab. </span> <em> <span class="s2">Oh shitbitchfuckfuckhell. Shit.</span> </em></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He didn't say anything. You weren't sure if he felt it. Instead, he took your momentary pause of mortification to finish tying your wrists up to a stick he'd placed sideways behind your back, which you identified as the tree-whacking stick you carried in your bag (You got some sort of primitive satisfaction from beating the toxic wildlife with its own kin). <em>Resourceful motherfucker.</em> After tying your ankles together, he released the rope around your waist, freeing you from the support beam and throwing you down on the nearest bunk. You backed yourself into the corner as he leaned down on the bunk until he was at your eye level. As soon as you caught your breath, you gasped out the only response you had that wouldn't give you away.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"</span><span class="s2"><em>wheeze</em>-</span> <span class="s1"> No fair- didn't - </span> <em><span class="s2">gasp</span></em> <span class="s1"> - give me a </span> <span class="s2">-<em>huff</em>- </span> <span class="s1">fair start." </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"Shouldn't have let your guard down, Damselfly. See," he grinned, eyes shining like he'd just solved a riddle, "That wasn't very </span> <span class="s2"><em>smart</em>,</span> <span class="s1"> now, is it? And I </span> <em><span class="s2">know</span> </em><span class="s1"> you're not dumb, my clever little songbird. So </span> <em><span class="s2">why</span></em><span class="s1">," he cocked his head, "would you </span> <em><span class="s2">ever</span></em> <span class="s1"> do a thing like that? I <em>do </em>have my theories..." You met his gaze, a deer caught in the gleaming headlights of his eyes. After a beat, he spoke again.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"No matter. There is still one last war to fight, one which, I must admit, I do most eagerly await. Despite your current predicament, you still make a formidable adversary. I do apologize for takin' such pleasure from a situation that is, to you, rather life-or-death. While I cannot contain my cheer, I do apologize for my flippancy."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"Oh, </span> <em><span class="s2">Ezra</span></em><span class="s1">,” you sighed sweetly. “For someone so eager for a good battle, you threw the match surprisingly fast." The look of surprise on his face was </span> <span class="s2">priceless.</span> <span class="s1"> "You can't do </span> <em><span class="s2">shit</span></em> <span class="s1"> to me. See, I'm simply too valuable." He opened his mouth to refute, but you cut him off before he could speak. "</span><span class="s2"><em>Tsk, tsk</em>. Let me finish, <em>friend</em>. You see, </span><span class="s1">I’m not valuable because of some aurelac tip-off I currently claim to possess." You paused for dramatic effect.</span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"I'm valuable because you </span> <em><span class="s2">like</span></em> <span class="s1"> me. </span><span class="s1">You," you chuckled softly, <em>"</em></span><em><span class="s2">ne</span><span class="s2">ed</span></em> <span class="s1"> me.</span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"Now," you grinned smugly, "let's figure out the context</span><span class="s1">. You've been here quite a while, haven't you? For all your chatter, you've never </span> <span class="s2">once</span> <span class="s1"> mentioned a partner. You have no ship, no crew, nothing but a tent which looks occupied enough for you to have been here for </span> <span class="s2">months.</span> <span class="s1"> Poor, <em>lonely</em> prospector, <em>marooned</em> on this shithole Green.</span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"But then </span> <em><span class="s2">I</span></em> <span class="s1"> come along. Someone to match wits with, someone to pour that <em>big</em> <em>beautiful</em> <em>brain</em> of yours onto, someone who listens and <em>talks back</em>." <em>And yes, this <strong>is</strong> going to my god complex. I truly am the world's greatest achievement. </em>"</span><span class="s1">So yes. I think you </span> <em><span class="s2">do</span></em> <span class="s1"> need me. Aren't I right?"</span></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stared at you with a strange mixture of vexation and intrigue. Finally, he sighed.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"Birdie, once again you have outplayed me." Really, you weren't sure you could get any smugger. </span> <span class="s1">"...<em>almost.</em>" </span></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Your smile dropped as he flashed one of his own<em>. Bastard.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"Do not let this perturbance cloud your countenance, my gem. Your arguments <em>are</em> correct. I <em>am</em> grateful for such sweet company as yours. </span><span class="s1">But even though I <em>thoroughly</em> enjoy your presence, my sweet </span> <span class="s2"><em>jorōgumo</em>,</span> <span class="s1"> the match has not yet been thrown." You cocked an eyebrow, awaiting his next move.</span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"Earlier, if I remember correctly, you mentioned that you </span> <span class="s2"><em>love</em> a good fight. </span><span class="s1">Sparring for sparring's sake. I most certainly agree, as these last few hours have been <em>quite</em> titillating. However, this is still a dangerous situation. My sweet little bird, I am simply a strange man you met in the woods. Yet you so eagerly attempt to provoke me, even though you are clearly," he tilted his head in the direction of your binds, "at a disadvantage. <em>Why</em><em>?"</em>  You gulped. He grinned.</span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"So. My conclusion? Part of the appeal must not only be the satisfaction of a good duel, but the possibility that you... may </span> <span class="s2"><em>lose</em>.</span><span class="s1">" </span> <span class="s2"><em>Fuck</em>.</span> <span class="s1"> You might be screwed. Worse, you were screwed and you </span> <em> <span class="s2">liked</span> </em> <span class="s1"> it, further proving his <em>stupid</em> point</span><span class="s1">. "Have no fear, though, your words still ring true. I will not cause you harm. Unless, of course," his voice lowered, </span> <em> <span class="s2">"you </span> <strong> <span class="s3">want</span> </strong> <span class="s2"> me to."</span> </em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em> <span class="s2">Fuck. </span> </em> <span class="s1">Your eyes glazed over just slightly. It didn’t escape his notice. He leaned a little closer.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Well? What’ll it be, Birdie? Business or... pleasure?” </span> <span class="s2"><em>Kevva</em>,</span> <span class="s1"> the way he said pleasure...</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“You know what they say, </span> <em> <span class="s2">Ezra</span></em><span class="s1">,” you shot back sweetly, so sweetly you almost forgot it was a taunt, </span> <span class="s3">“<em><strong>All’s fair in love and war.</strong></em>”</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His reaction was immediate. His eyes widened, a look of wonder flashing across his face before it was chased away by the furious clenching of his jaw. The change in his demeanor had you reeling with an unfamiliar sensation of smugness and fear, power and helplessness. Despite the raging intensity of his gaze, you stared straight back at him, refusing to break eye contact first.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Abruptly he turned, rose, and strode to theother side of the tent before dropping to his haunches. He was silent, unreadable, his back to you. You watched in confusion, trying to figure out what he was doing. </span> <em> <span class="s2">Is he having a pre-game pep talk? An extremely last-minute manscaping sash? Oh god, if he’s gearing up to take a running leap, I-</span> </em></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then he stood up. Turned. Stalked towards you. As he got closer, you noticed the reason for his sudden departure. In his hand, gleaming with a ruthlessness only rivaled by the look in his eyes, was the thrower. <em>Kevva forgive me.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">He pulled up a chair, keeping his gaze on you the whole time. Once seated, he leaned forward to grab the rope between your ankles and dragged you to the edge of the bunk. </span> <span class="s1">You knew you looked a mess. Your hair was wild, your lips were parted, and your voice box worked traitorously in your throat as it silently ran through the mechanics of a moan</span><span class="s2">.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you sure you want to do this, little bird?” He leaned closer until he was crooning the words in your ear. You gasped as the cold metal of the thrower caressed its way up your arm, tilting when it met your collarbone to press its barrel up under your chin. “Come on, starling, I reckon you'd better capitulate... just say Uncle and I’ll stop.” You gritted your teeth at the suggestion.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not in your life, pal.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><br/>He chuckled softly, a leer spreading across his handsome features. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Suit yourself.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">You shivered as the stubble on his cheek grazed your jaw. His lips were close- you could feel their warmth. <em>Kevva,</em> you wanted him. He smelled like sweat and earth and spaceport convenience store cologne; the lowliest scents of both nature and civilization. And that <em>was</em> him, wasn't it? Wild and suave and roguish.</p><p class="p1">He leaned himself further into the crook of your neck, his face tilting to fit the contours of your skin in an almost tender manner, although his next words were anything but.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">"Let's start off with a simple one, sweetheart. Method of transport. Ship or pug?" You snorted. <em>Sure, like I'm just gonna tell you.</em></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">"Boat." You felt him freeze. For some reason, he didn't seem to appreciate your sarcasm.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"><em>"<strong>Which</strong>,"</em> he hissed, <em>"<strong>one</strong>, little bird?"</em></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">"Well, It was either a bicycle or a car, but I don't quite remem-" his hand fisted your hair, drawing out a (frankly embarrassing) yelp from you. You weren't sure, but you thought you heard a low growl escape him. He slowly pulled down until you were leaning back on your tied elbows.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">"My <em>sweet, <strong>sweet</strong></em> <em>Cassiopeia, </em>you <em>are</em> a perplexity. Perhaps I must stop making threats and start making <em>promises</em>."</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">"Wh-" your voice wavered. You tried to correct it. It didn't work.  "What do you mean by that-"</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">He kissed you. </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Holy <em>fuck.</em></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Holy fuck it was <em>good.</em> And <em>warm.</em> And <em>slow,</em> but filled with more desire than any you'd ever had. No juvenile <em>open-your-mouth-and-say-"aah"</em> kisses where your mouths form a cavern the size of Bakhroma and wiggle your tongue into the void, in hopes of <em>maybe</em> hitting the other person's, and wait for it to be over so you can just <em>get to the </em>(also unsatisfying) <em>sex already</em>. No, this was <em>different</em>. He kissed you like he <em>enjoyed</em> it. And holy fuck, maybe you did too. </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">He lifted your chin to suckle tenderly on your bottom lip before releasing it, only to seize another from you, and another, and another. His kisses slowly coaxed your tongue into his mouth so he could gently suck on it, drawing you in closer and cradling your head in one hand as he gorged himself on your lips.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Of course, he did tilt your chin up with the barrel of his loaded thrower, but who's to say it wasn't still kind of sweet?</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">He pulled away just enough for your glazed eyes to meet his before leaning to murmur in your ear.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">"Darlin', you taste positively de-<em>vine</em>." He chuckled softly. "Just like I knew you would. The moment I felt your skin, I knew I <em>needed</em> to feel it against my lips," he kissed your neck, "my tongue," he licked a cool stripe up over the spot, <em>"my teeth,"</em> His teeth dug into the blushing skin, prying a soft cry from you as you arched into his touch. </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">"I could give you what you need, Canary, I could make you <em>feel</em> <em>so damn good.</em>" He leaned back, practically straddling you at this point. "All I require, <em>besides your irresistible personage,</em> is your cooperation. <em>Tell me what I want</em> and the night is yours." <em>Of course. Of course he'd turn it into a bargain. But then again, so would you.</em> You chuckle.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">"This <em>is</em> a lost cause, you know. I'm not gonna break."</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"><em>"No,"</em> he replied darkly. "Only good little birds get to break." He smiled a slow, predatory smile, letting the tension build as he leaned a little closer.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>"I plan to make you <strong>beg</strong>."</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Got a BIIIIG info dump here for ya, so brace yourself.</p><p>Jorōgumo: A type of spider fabled to have shapeshifting abilities and an appetite for human men (a literal man eater, if you will). The Jorōgumo have earned the right to be feared; a female Jorōgumo can grow up to about 1 inch in body size (3 inches if you count legs. Scary motherfuckers), and have bright yellow stripes on each leg (scary. Ass. Motherfuckers). Their webs are also incredibly strong; when scientists injected silkworm eggs with Jorōgumo genes, the resulting silk was incredibly strong, finding use in bulletproof vests (BULLETPROOF VESTS????), tennis rackets, and operation sutures. They are also being used to make socks (spider socks. We really are living in the future). </p><p>Did I mention the bigger ones can also eat birds? Yeah. Yeah they can. Sleep well, y'all.</p><p>Once a Jorōgumo turns 400 years old, it is said to develop the ability to shapeshift into a sexually appealing female form (does not necessarily reflect gender, as I'm sure male-identifying spiders are also capable of living four centuries). These Jorōgumo qualify as Yokai, the demons of Japanese folklore. Said to be incredibly intelligent, they are clever enough to go unnoticed in large cities, sometimes employing other (fire breathing, as if an army of spiders isn't terrifying enough) spiders to burn down the houses of those who suspect them. Honestly, nothing but respect to 'em.</p><p>In today's Kanji, Jorōgumo means "entangling bride." However, the spelling was adapted later, in an attempt to cover up the original name: "Whore spider." I, being a dumb bitch with ADHD, made up a song that I will now share with you, whether you like it or not. </p><p>(Sung to Spiderman Theme)<br/>Spider-Whore<br/>Spider-Whore<br/>Does whatever a Spider-Whore's for</p><p>Bet they give<br/>Shitty brain<br/>They'll put your dick<br/>In a pâté</p><p>Watch out;<br/>They are the Spider-Whore.</p><p>Thank you for your time.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Delight of the Demise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>SO. THE SMUT IS (orally) HERE. Tell me if it's too talky, because I ramble like hell. Also because I've been trying to meditate and this is the shit that bounces around in my brain. "Clear your mind" my ass. But seriously, I am starved for comments, good, bad, or ugly.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I'll try a new line of questioning. Something more... gratifyin'." He moved you to the other side of the bed, cutting your ankle ties to part your legs as he leaned you against the corner of the tent. He knelt, his knees now resting under your spread legs. "Bring me some peace of mind, birdie." His head leaned down and tilted in uncanny sympathy. "Describe your situation. I want you to tell me what you think this is." You frowned. <em>What kind of question is <strong>that?</strong></em></p><p> </p><p>"I'm, uh, on the Green?" You guessed, unsure what type of answer he was looking for. His eyebrows raised, and he gestured for you to continue. "And... I'm in a tent?" </p><p> </p><p><em>"Whose</em> tent?" He prompted, a smirk curling up the left side of his face. You grimaced, knowing where the line of questioning would end.</p><p> </p><p>"...Your tent."</p><p> </p><p>"That's right. Now, how do you think you look?"</p><p> </p><p>"I... I'm wearing a tank top and shorts." He sat, waiting for you to continue. You didn't want to say it. "And I'm on a cot." Still waiting. You <em>really</em> didn't want to say it. "And..." you flushed a little, "I'm tied up." His smile widened, the answer he wanted finally obtained.</p><p> </p><p>"My canary, I was here thinkin' you were more eloquent than that." He shook his head mockingly. "Where did your sense of aestheticism go? Here, let me tell you what I see." He leaned back, observing you with obvious relish. "I see you with your legs spread and shaking, and with your arms bound behind your back, pronouncing your <em>delectable </em>form.</p><p>Furthermore, I see that tank top clingin' to your body, attempting, in vain, to hide how sensitive your nipples are; how your head lolls back in pleasure before you deprive yourself of it once more; and <em>Kevva,</em> birdie, I can see your loins clench through those <em>excruciatingly</em> thin shorts." He made no effort to hide the direction of his gaze, causing you to tense even further. He hummed in appreciation.</p><p>"Lastly, I can see what an exquisite mess you've made of yourself, my vulnerable, <em>deadly</em> little songbird. You look so distressed. So damn needy. But while I may not be, by any means, a good man, I am not wholly lackin' empathy." He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a soothing coo.</p><p>"Let me help you, my sweet siren. I can make it better. Just tell me what I want to know," his voice darkened considerably, "and I will give you <em>everythin'</em> you need."</p><p> </p><p>His eyes were back on yours, soulful yet commanding, and at that moment you knew that while you were playing a losing game, you'd be <em>damned</em> if you weren't going to drag him down with you. <em>In for a point, in for a pound, right?</em> Trembling, you met his stare with your own.</p><p> </p><p>"A question for a question, friend." <em>Fuck, </em>you didn't mean to sound that breathy.</p><p> </p><p>"Your boldness is <em>infinitely</em> amusing. But I'm feeling somewhat magnanimous. Ask away."</p><p> </p><p>"You <em>say</em> you know what I need, but I'm inclined to say you're bluffing. I try not to make a habit of accepting a deal before reading the fine print, no matter <em>how</em> charismatic my counterpart may be." You didn't realize you bit your lip until you heard his low groan in response. You smirked. "<em>Details,</em> Ezra. Tell it to me."</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Oh, I</em><em> know <strong>exactly</strong> what you need, darlin.'</em><em>"</em> He leaned forward a little, his little lopsided grin practically <em>dripping</em> with menacing charm. "I know you like it rough, don't you, birdie?" He grabbed the flesh of your inner thigh, squeezing harshly until you twitched.</p><p>"I reckon you'd let me do all kinds of things to you... ain't that right, beautiful?" He stroked his hands up and down the sides of your waist in a soothing caress, mixing deliciously with the bruising ache left on your thigh. "Lick every drop of nectar from that pretty pussy, and then suckle you for <em>more,</em> until you're <em>sobbing</em> for me, and by <em><strong>Kevva</strong>, I'll wager your tears'll taste sweet too."</em>  </p><p>"I crave the sight of your skin blossoming with the remnants of my rapture; ache for the marks of teeth and tongue and passion. Want to hear your voice <em>hoarse</em> and <em>raw</em> from <em>screamin'</em> my goddamn name. Want to press my thumb into the bruises left on the supple flesh of your ass to hear your sweet little moans, and press my cock against the bruises I left <em>inside</em> you." <em>Kevva, who the <strong>FUCK</strong> let him have this effect over you?</em></p><p>"Does the thought of that get you wet, little bird?" You nodded before you could help it. <em>Shit.</em> "It <em>does!"</em> Ezra looked positively delighted. "Oh birdie, your admission renders me weak, a feat which I doubt any other could accomplish. Such an endeavor, I most grudgingly (yet eagerly) admit, deserves a reward, does it not?" He paused. "Answer me, starling." </p><p> </p><p>"...Please."</p><p> </p><p><em>"Ah,"</em>  he hummed, "sweet music to my ears." And with that, he leaned forward, wrapping one arm around your waist to lift your hips and divest you of your shorts, and all you could think was <em>man, I bet this guy gives great hugs</em> but also <em>Kevva if he doesn't take his dick and dislocate my pancreas <strong>right this instant</strong> I'm gonna fucking <strong>lose it.</strong></em></p><p>You shivered as the pads of his fingers stroked the contours of you, the swells and falls of flesh <em>just</em> far enough away to neglect your wetness, tracing your lips back and forth and <em>never where you wanted them</em>. In a lapse of self-restraint, you ground yourself into his hand as best you could, and whined as he pulled it back before you could make contact.</p><p>You were <em>definitely</em> going to lose it.</p><p> </p><p>"Ah, ah, ah, nymph," he tutted, grinning like the bastard he was. "Verbalize. I do not intend to rob you of your vernacular... <em>yet."</em> </p><p> </p><p><em>Fuck it. Dignity was never my strong point anyway</em>. </p><p> </p><p><em>"Please,</em> Ez, please touch me. Fuck me with your fingers, fuck me with your tongue or your cock or your-" <em><strong>gun</strong>, but we try not to think about that one. <strong>Moving on,</strong></em> "-uh, yeah, well, my point is <em>anything</em>, do <em>anything</em> you want to me as long as you <em>do something!"</em> </p><p> </p><p><em>He</em> <strong><em>did</em></strong> <em>something, all right</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Making eye contact the entire time, he lowered his head between your thighs and let his lips part, allowing a thin stream of saliva to drip down your slit. He swirled his fingers through your folds, mixing your wetness with his own until it coated his hand as well. Placing his tongue just below your clit, he teased the underside, drawing your mind away from the stretch of his prospecting fingers. When he finally lifted the nub into his mouth, he curled his hand, overwhelming the inner reaches of your clit from both sides. You cried out softly, a sob that morphed into a call of his name, and felt the roll of his voice respond against you.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh <em>fuck,</em> Ezra- <em>shit-</em> your mouth feels so good on me, you're so fucking good." He moaned into you, the hand on your thigh squeezing you to the point of pain.<em> Ooh, he <strong>likes</strong> that, does he?</em>  You grinned. "Wanna- <em>FUCK!</em> -come on your tongue, kiss you and taste the proof on your lips-"</p><p> </p><p>The growl you drew from him was practically animalistic as he drew back from your cunt to bite at the inside of your thigh, driven practically wild. He lapped at you, dragging his mouth up your slit only to release and drag it up again, each time a little faster, a little harder, a little more starved. His fingers hooked inside you as he rocked his hand, tugging his fingers inside and <em>backwards</em> into the sensitive flesh, <em>pulling</em> them into a spot that nearly made you wail.</p><p>He hummed, his crooning a sweet mockery of your cries, and sucked your clit between his lips one final time, circling its tip with his tongue and rhythmically squeezing the base of it with his lips, until your shaking legs clenched themselves tighter around his head and your moans littered themselves with shallow sobs and cries of <em>Kevva</em> and <em>oh my god</em> and <em>please don't stop,</em> because <em>this man,</em> this <em>beautiful, terrible man,</em> was about to make you cum and <em>you fucking liked it</em>.</p><p>His right hand gripped into your thigh harder, grabbing and pulling and-</p><p>
  <em>Pushing you away? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>No, <strong>no</strong>-</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"DON'T," you cried, but it was too late, "...don't go," you finished, faltering brokenly. His pointer finger lingered between your legs, stoking the fire he so cruelly denied you. A smirk curled the left corner of his mouth as he watched you with affectionate amusement, drinking in every expression that crossed your face. He reached out with his other hand to caress your face.</p><p> </p><p>"You <em>bastard,</em>" you panted unevenly. </p><p> </p><p>"Believe me, birdie, I am serving my penance many times over. Even now, I yearn to dive back down and taste you once more. I could spend eternity with my face buried in the merciful asylum you have granted me between your legs. I <em>starve</em> to know the secrets you possess, the wonders only <em>you</em> contain. What marvels lay just beneath your skin?</p><p>"As you already know," his voice lowered conspiratorially, "I've already noticed quite a few things about you." <em>Did this asshole just boop you on the nose?!</em> "A common side effect when one is with such an enthralling companion as yourself," he added, flashing you a glowing smile. <em>Oh fuck. Don't blush don't blush don't-</em> "Among my observations I found an affinity for the adventurous. A penchant for peril. But lastly... <em>an eye for my thrower."</em> </p><p><em>Oh, <strong>double</strong> fuck. He</em> <em><strong>noticed</strong> that?!</em></p><p> </p><p>You realized your face must have betrayed your mortification, because a devilish glint now flickered in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Sweet starling, there's no need for such chagrin. In fact... quite the contrary," he murmured as he brought his hand up to stroke your cheek. "If you'd be just a <em>little</em> more helpful, I might even let you <em>fuck</em> yourself on it, little bir-"</p><p> </p><p><em><strong>"I WAS LYING!"</strong></em> You shouted. Ezra jumped, clearly taken aback by your outburst. He stared at you in utter confusion as you continued.</p><p> </p><p><em>"<strong>I</strong> never <strong>had</strong> any aurelac coordinates!</em> I'm the most <em>useless</em> motherfucker out here, because my partner thought it'd be a good idea to try to <em>shoot me</em> when we were harvesting because he thought I was distracted-" you paused to take a breath,</p><p>"-so then I had to chuck <em>my</em> aurelac at him and explode him with my fazer liquid, and I forgot he was holding the <em>rest</em> of the damn aurelac <em>and</em> his notes, and now all I have are medical boxes, bits bars in the <em>worst</em> flavors because Shawn was a fucking <em>idiot</em>, a broken ship that I have <em>no idea how to fix</em>, and a dead guy's half-shot filter!" You were  rambling now, the stress of the past few weeks rushing past your lips without regard.</p><p>"And either way Shawn was the only one who could fly, ipso facto I'm <em>fucked</em>, but <em>fuck it, </em>I don't <em>fucking care,</em> as long as you stop <em>fucking around</em> and start fucking <em>fucking</em> me,<em> got it,<strong> motherfucker?"</strong></em> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> <sup>Ezra was... <strong>different</strong>. Observant, where other fringe-dwellers were merely alert. He scanned his surroundings for more than just threats, looked to the sky when there were no stations in sight.</sup> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <sup>You'd first noticed it on your walk back to his tent. When he stopped to watch the sun filter through the trees ("in such <strong>resplendent</strong> komorebi, even this vile dust gleams with pulchritude, no?"), or to pick up and present you, a little too enthusiastically, with a perfectly preserved human skull, (which he proceeded to cradle theatrically; <strong>"Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio."</strong>).</sup> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <sup>Once, he stopped short, almost making you crash into him, and dropped to the ground, only to pop back up with a strange, delicate insect perched on his index finger. He extended his hand, offering it to you until he realized your hands were tied. He had the grace to look sheepish, and abruptly launched into a description of his theories on insect evolution on the Green. </sup> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <sup>He also described, with mild horror, one morning when he had woken up to two fucking in his hair ("but, well, I digress."). </sup> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <sup>Yet one of the most striking occurrences was when he picked up a rock. Not an uncommon phenomenon for an aurelac harvester, but well... this rock was <strong>worthless.</strong> But he held it up to the light nonetheless. When he pocketed it, his explanation to you was simply "it's pretty."</sup> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <sup>The point is, he was a man who appreciated beauty, who left himself open to awe and wonder.</sup> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <sup>And the way he was looking at you now... it made you feel, for the first time in your life, <strong>resplendent.</strong></sup> </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>He looked at you, eyes soft yet burning with an undercurrent of lust. His lips were slightly parted, and the planes of his chest rose and fell softly. After a still, breathless silence, the words spilled from him, almost automatically. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <em>"My god, you're magnificent."</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1. Yes, Ezra <em>is</em> quoting Hamlet. Ah, the lure of vengeance, amirite?<br/>2. Komorebi: sunlight filtered through leaves/trees.<br/>3. Also, you can NOT tell me Ezra didn't stop to step on the crunchier leaves the whole way back. He did.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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